


A Love of Linguistics

by merry_amelie



Series: Stand-alones [12]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-09
Updated: 2003-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Etymology is destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love of Linguistics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

Obi-Wan remembered the exact moment the outrageous idea came to him, and even years later, Qui-Gon could make him blush by reminding him of it. 

A Jedi presence was requested for the witnessing of a marriage on Dariel Gamma. It was Obi-Wan's linguistics background that got him into trouble. The invitation from Queen Halie read in part, "We request two Jedi to witness our son's wedding." Here's where it got interesting. Obi-Wan knew that the Darian word for Knight was 'cradach', whereas the word for newlywed was 'cradech'. He quickly drafted a reply, before he could think better of it, saying that the Jedi pair of Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his cradech would be happy to be their witnesses. Even if the error were discovered, it would be considered a typing mistake. Obi-Wan pressed 'Send' on his datapad, boggling at his own recklessness and daring.

* * *

When they arrived on Dariel, droids greeted them on the pad and escorted them to their quarters on Rangabout Hill, the royal palace. The men took quick note of their surroundings: hazy purple sky, courtesy of Nerhala, Dariel's gas giant of a star; blue grass, that appeared not only edible but delectable to Obi-Wan; and tall white buildings that looked opalescent in the afternoon light.

They were housed in one of these white towers, fourteenth floor, ninth door from the lift, one bedroom in their quarters, one huge bed in said bedroom. 

"It looks like a honeymoon suite," Jinn thought bemusedly.

"It looks like a honeymoon suite," Obi-Wan thought happily, and promptly flushed.

Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's face redden. "You won't even know I'm in there with you," said Qui-Gon reassuringly, completely misinterpreting the blush on Obi-Wan's cheeks.

Obi-Wan prudently decided not to chance answering that, and turned away to unpack. When everything had been stowed, he found Qui-Gon in the common room checking in with the planetary comp system.

"Our first meeting with His Royal Highness isn't until tomorrow morning at 8th hour. We have tonight free to decompress." So saying, Obi-Wan put his feet on the hassock by the couch.

Qui-Gon stretched his arms, and came to sit beside Obi-Wan. "We've shared many different types of quarters before, Obi-Wan, but this time it looks like they think we're the grooms, instead of the Dariel royals." He gestured at the rooms. "Everything here is clearly set up for a couple."

The couch was a loveseat; the table had two elaborate place settings and candles; two cushions were placed on the rug by the fireplace. Obi-Wan was almost afraid to see the 'fresher.

"You're right, Qui-Gon. Does that bother you?" said Obi-Wan, deciding to take the offensive.

"No, of course not. It just seems excessive to waste such trifles on Jedi, that's all."

"Well, I don't mind it a bit. I'm still trying to get the mud off the soles of my boots from our last mission. I could do with a bit of luxury." Obi-Wan yawned. "Speaking of which, can I take the first bath?"

Qui-Gon ruffled his hair playfully. "Since you need it more..." 

"Oh, I don't know about that. Your hair is so much longer that there's more room for the dirt." Obi-Wan and his smile disappeared behind the 'fresher door.

He whistled as he beheld the room: a tub the size of one of the pools at the Temple, already filled with swirling suds; plush green towels as big as blankets; an enormous shower with transparisteel walls. If his bold idea worked, Obi-Wan might just have company in here before the mission was over. Sighing, he removed his tunics and leggings, imagining that big hands were performing this service for him, and got into the tub.

Water always soothed Obi-Wan. Swimming was his favorite sport, and he had enough room to do laps here. He idly stroked through the water, thinking about his chances with Qui-Gon.

Would a romantic atmosphere be conducive to kindling the love between them into something physical? For he knew that Qui-Gon loved him as a cherished friend; he could see for himself the difference between the Master's treatment of him and the rest of the world. The sense of polite distance was completely absent in their dealings with one another. That must mean something, but then again, he'd never seen Qui-Gon look at him in a speculative way, either. 

Of course, Obi-Wan himself had always kept his feelings behind the tightest barriers, and a Jedi Master would certainly have no problems doing the same. Resisting the urge to idle in the pool, and chuckling at the thought that he had devoted far too much time to wallowing over Qui-Gon already, he cleaned himself efficiently and dried his skin, helpless to prevent a vision of Qui-Gon licking the water droplets off him. 

While Obi-Wan bathed, Qui-Gon prepared latemeal for them in the kitchen just off the common room. The intimate environment was having an effect on him as well as his former apprentice. The cooling unit held multi-flavored cordials, flash-sealed pouches with sliced fruit, and trays of tempting delicacies.

Qui-Gon's mouth watered as he pictured hand-feeding them to the succulent man in the next room. Shaking his head to clear it of fantasies, he set to making graincakes, and even managed to put the honey on the table without imagining the path it would take drizzled over Obi-Wan's stomach. 

Obi-Wan came into the common room, and started to help Qui-Gon put plates on the table. He'd done this at their rooms in the Temple thousands of times, but here the homey movements took on a sense of greater intimacy. Obi-Wan allowed himself to brush past Qui-Gon on the way to and from the kitchen, relishing the whisper of linen against his own tunics. Was it his imagination, or was Qui-Gon doing his part in their sensual choreography? 

Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon had the reflexes to avoid his touch, if he so desired, but perhaps that very touch was what he sought. He tested his theory the next time they passed each other in the kitchen. Obi-Wan timed it so that Qui-Gon could easily miss him by a Corellian meter if his proximity was unwelcome. He smiled when their leggings met at the knee. Obi-Wan sighed in relief: his little plan was working.

They had a pleasant dinner; the candlelight bathing their faces in a luminescent glow that each found highly attractive. Qui-Gon served his former Padawan the graincakes and fruit, attentive in a way he hadn't been since Obi-Wan was a youngster. Now, however, the attentiveness was decidedly not paternal.

Obi-Wan saw a glint in Qui-Gon's eyes that he at first attributed to the candlelight, but upon rapt consideration, he determined that the sultry look was for him alone. When he squeezed honey on his cakes, Obi-Wan saw sweat form on Qui-Gon's brow, as he glanced at him surreptitiously. 

Abruptly, Qui-Gon put down his fork. "Would you care to meditate with me tonight?"

Obi-Wan saw the cushions by the fireplace out of the corner of his eye, a small smile gracing his face. "I'd love to."

Their meditation session was surprisingly normal, given the luxurious setting. They'd done this together everywhere from the cozy confines of their Temple rooms to the unforgiving decks of a variety of spacecraft to various guest quarters while on missions.

Here on Dariel, the comfort level was higher than usual, both in their immediate surroundings and in the men themselves. They eased into contemplation quickly and deeply.

Qui-Gon let his mind and emotions have free rein. What was happening here on Dariel? He'd felt sparks of attraction for Obi-Wan before, but dismissed them as unimportant, an unnecessary complication in an otherwise perfect partnership. Why add the potential volatility of a lover's bond to a satisfying friendship?

And what to make of Obi-Wan's behavior today? Had he really been flirting with Qui-Gon, or was that just his over-stimulated imagination? Qui-Gon himself had certainly let his feelings show more than usual. Was that what Obi-Wan wanted?

It all crystallized for him into one question: Why risk change to a relationship that had sustained them both for the past twelve years?

Why, indeed? It was just...that Qui-Gon's skin craved Obi-Wan's touch, his ears needed the young man's laugh, his eyes longed to see him in passion. 

Qui-Gon surfaced from meditation, breathing heavily, his gaze held by Obi-Wan, who had evidently been watching and waiting for his return to ordinary consciousness.

"That must have been quite an experience," Obi-Wan teased, as he reached to wipe a runnel of sweat from Qui-Gon's cheek, before it could disappear into his beard.

Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan's hand, and turned it palm up, kissing it reverently. "I thought that this suite was just a pleasant diversion for us, but it means more than that to you, does it not?" 

Obi-Wan held Qui-Gon's eyes as he answered him. "Yes, Qui, indeed it does."

The story of Obi-Wan's not-so-innocent typographical error came pouring out of him. He found himself in Qui-Gon's strong embrace on the couch, chuckling softly as he admitted to his attempt at courtship.

Luckily, Qui-Gon was more amused than irritated by Obi-Wan's manipulation. He laughed over the etymology, repeating 'cradach' and 'cradech' with relish. "Oh, Obi-Wan, this truly was an inspired idea! How else could you get through to your dense old Master, hmm?"

"I'm just glad that I took the chance now, Qui-Gon. I was afraid I'd end up back in Master Koh's first-level Diplo Et course, sharing my notes with the Initiates. Not to mention back in my old Padawan room, after all."

"No chance of that, my Obi-Wan, no chance in Hoth." Qui-Gon's eyes sparkled as he kissed his beloved for the first time. 

By the time morning came, every luxury in the honeymoon suite had been sampled, and the exact meaning of 'cradach' and 'cradech' no longer mattered, since Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were both to each other from then on.


End file.
